The Red Ledger Vol. 03 - The End

"OOOH, I like American dessert!!" she purred.

"Ethiopian pastry isn't too bad, either," I murmured into her neck.

We snuggled and necked for a while, and I managed to get to 2nd base. (I had to explain that to her, but more on that later.)

About then, the portico light flicked on and off.

"I thought that was only an American custom," I said to her.

She smiled and said, "I guess fathers are pretty much the same everywhere."

I kissed her nose, said good night, and left to go back to the barracks.

The next day, the colonel called me in, and asked for a de-brief on my dinner date. I gave him an overview of the night's activities and an assessment of the dinner. I glossed over the faux-pa with the wine and grapefruit juice. But he picked up on it and chuckled at my embarrassment.

"Well, now you know about her religion, the fact that you have at least not insulted their religious beliefs and that the lady is human. What are your motives moving forward??"

I thought for a long moment and realized there was only one course of action.

"I guess I'm going to propose to her."

The Colonel looked at me for a long time.

"My wife and I have been married for 35 years. It was the best move I ever made. I think she's a keeper.

"Yours too.

"DON'T SCREW THIS UP, CAPTAIN!!"

"SIR, YES SIR," I answered.

Our lives went on. I had several 'dates' with Ami, and went to church with them. They reciprocated and went to church with me. Her parents seemed satisfied that I was a straight arrow, and she didn't seem to mind riding in a motor pool Fiesta or the occasional four-wheel drive Hum-Vee.

We picnicked and toured the local points of interest.

I saw where Hailie Salassie was buried and learned a little about Ethiopia's history. I shared some of my story and the history of Texas and the United States.

I told her about my father and sister and commented on her marriage to her asshole husband. I told her about my mother not being too keen on me joining the military and staying in to make it a career.

She said she was very proud of me but was also scared to death every time I went out on patrol. She constantly told me she loved me.

I returned the thought.

I met several of her friends. Mostly doctors, a few college professors, pretty decent bunch. Except for one guy.

Ahmad ben Donshari was a businessman; actually, a 'financial advisor.' He had known Ami for most of her life and was a family friend. Her parents knew him and his family.

Mom did not care for him.

Dad thought he was a little shady.

Her brothers thought her American suitor thoroughly outclassed him in all categories.

No offense to him, but he was Muslim. He was constantly pushing her to convert. That was a definite non-starter in her book.

And he thought American football was a game for neanderthals.

So I'm a caveman now.

I remarked that soccer was a lot like a tea party.

Just not that physical.

He failed to see the humor.

I'm a guest in his country, I kept reminding myself.

I didn't beat the crap out of him......... Yet.

I swung by early one afternoon to the hospital to offer her a ride home.

There he was in the courtyard of the hospital, yelling at her. I stopped and watched.

She appeared to be trying to placate him and finally took his hands in hers. Ami spoke to him earnestly, shaking her head. She reached up on tip-toes and kissed him. It didn't seem to be much of a kiss, but it was a kiss. I realized we never talked about being exclusive, but I just thought........You know, we were an item. I guess they don't have items in Ethiopia.

Live and learn, I guess.

I turned to walk away when I heard her scream. I pivoted and saw him with his hands inside her scrubs, pawing at her. She kept pushing at him and yelling at him to stop.

He just kept smirking at her and telling her that a true woman must accept a man's attention.

We're not in Texas, but I was still a Texan.

I sprinted to the table they were standing at, and grabbed him by the man bun at the back of his head. She gasped at my sudden appearance and stepped backward.

"O.K., jerk, what do you think you're doing?"

He looked at me with stark fear in his eyes. Then he shook himself loose, and the smugness and bravado returned.

"Unhand me, infidel. I will have your soul for this atrocity."

"Well, in that case," I intoned and hit him square in the nose. His nasal cavity squashed, and he dropped to the floor.

Ami gasped and whispered, "DONALD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??"

Donning my best dumb-shit look, I looked down at him and then up at her. "I punched him in the nose. What does it look like I did??"

She looked at me like I was a stupid child.

Well, I was a boy, and I was in love. I still didn't see a problem.

"You can't go around punching everyone when you are mad. You are a mature man, and you need to act like one.

"Otherwise, how can I marry you??"

HUH??

I think she just proposed to me.

She approached me and pulled a platinum band out of her pocket.

"Donald Forsane, will you marry me and give me your babies?"

She was on her way to one knee when I restarted my brain and caught her hands. I pulled her to her feet and proceeded to perform oral surgery on her.

"Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

Then I looked at her, grinned, and said to her, "What took you so long??"

She looked at me with that look that said, 'Can the American humor!'

I looked down at the moaning pile of camel dung on the ground.

"She asked me to marry her, jerk," and I smiled a shit-eating grin at him.

Then I returned to the here and now. "What was the kiss about?"

She blushed and said, "I was trying to get him out of my life. There is no one else but you, now and forever more. I can only give you my word of this. What happened before we knew each other is ancient history. If you have secrets, I don't want to know them. From now on, we are exclusive."

Excitedly, I turned around to the piece of shit getting up off the ground and grinned more.

"AND WE ARE EXCLUSIVE!!"

He looked at me in pain and said, "Congratulations. The cow is yours."

I looked down and thought she might let me have one last shot. I struggled with trying to be a 'mature man' in the eyes of my future wife.

That's when she moved around me and kicked him square in the balls.

Twice.

Apparently, only one of us had to be mature.

So we kissed (of course) and left for an upscale jewelry store that just happened to be owned by an uncle of Ami's. We arrived, and relatives I had not met yet greeted us. A congratulatory tea ceremony was mandatory before we could pick out the 'perfect' ring. We also got two wedding rings to go with the engagement rings.

We went home to her house and went in to talk to her parents. I got the 'dad' look from her father and wondered, 'Had I misread the atmosphere surrounding our relationship?'

Her dad was a big guy, as tall as me and maybe 20 lbs. lighter than I was. But he was in good shape.

He rose from his chair and walked up to me. I gulped quietly and straightened up to face him.

He looked me up and down and stared me in the eye.

"It is about time," he intoned.

He grinned and extended his hand. I shook it and blushed.

"Take care of her, love her, and protect her as you have done before. I entrust my most precious possession to you."

NO pressure. I gulped again.

"Thank you, sir. I will not let you down."

Ami grabbed my arm and pulled me into a soul-burning kiss.

Her mom came up and took my hand. She kissed me on the cheek.

"She is your responsibility now. Take care of her, and give me grandchildren."

I kissed her forehead and told her we would do our best.

We set a date for eight months from then, and I called home to talk to my parents and little sister. I informed them of what had transpired. Celeste was ecstatic, Dad was very proud of me, and Mom......well, mom had a hissy fit on the phone.

(I didn't know you could do that.)

Ami spoke to my sister and my father.

Mom excused herself to take care of some 'pressing business.' Dad said they would get reservations and be there for the wedding.

My sister called the next day and said that her husband had 'meetings' that whole week and could not make it. My mom assured me that she would be there.

(Actually, she said that through my dad, who sounded a little pissed with her.)

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My sister showed up first. We picked her up at the airport and took her to her hotel. We got her checked in and then took her on a tour of Addis Abbas. She almost immediately bonded with Ami and the two of them were chattering like magpies. It got so bad that when we left the hotel to see the sites, Ami sat in the back seat of my rented Mercedes with Celeste, and I got to play chauffeur.

Maybe she wanted to marry my sister?

We drove around for about two hours and then went to Ami's parent's house. We rolled up and got to the front door.

Ami opened the door and walked in, announcing our presence.

We were met by her mother and two grandmothers. The female chatter escalated to the point of excluding me from participation.

Then her brothers showed up. At last!! Now I could have some decent male conversation.

The guys walked in and right past my outstretched hand to make my sister's acquaintance.

SIGH!! 0 for three.

I got a lemon water from the kitchen and adjourned to the courtyard, where the ladies were holding court. I found a castoff cane chair under the massive tree which dominated the patio and waited for her dad to come home. At least I was fairly confident that he still liked me.

0 for four.

There was an estrogen storm brewing and her brothers were eating it up. Her dad came home and waved to me as he went in to join the 'hen party.'

I was glad everyone liked my sister and thought my stock had gone up by several points.

My folks showed up four days later, and my dad was immediately a crowd favorite.

Ami's dad took to him right away, and her mother said she knew where I got my good looks from, and my manners. She grinned at me.

My mother was a different case. She was a distant presence and hardly associated with the ladies at all. Ami's mother was concerned that she did not care for my choice in marriage material.

Her father described her as a 'cold fish.'

I apologized to them and said that Ami was not marrying my mother. As far as I was concerned, Ami was my whole world. I was committed to her for life and I thought she felt the same way about me.

Her mom assured me that Ami would rather die than disappoint me.

The men in my life started to plan a bachelor party for me while the ladies said that there was a middle eastern equivalent of a bachelorette party that they would be throwing for Ami. I was glad that my sister was there as a representative of my family as I didn't think my mother would be much fun.

My dad arranged for my maternal grandparents to come for the bachelor party and the wedding. Ami's dad and brothers told me it would be a 'traditional' Ethiopian bachelor party.

My grandmother was easily tired and loved the almost constant attention. She was suffering from cancer, and would probably not be with us much longer. Celeste, Ami, and Ami's mother Fatima, fussed over her and regaled her with stories of my 'heroic' exploits.

My grandmother was in seventh heaven. Even my mother showed a human side to everyone.

All of us guys, including my C/O, my second in command, and the Captain in charge of the Marine contingent at the Embassy were invited.

We left for the nightclub.

It turns out it was a belly dancing bar. My soon-to-be brothers-in-law told me it was a 'WOW', but do not touch venue. My soon-to-be father-in-law was watching me, and bonding with my grandfather and my dad and I was having a hard time relaxing.

But the free-flowing ouzo, tella, antej, areki, scotch, bourbon, and other liquid refreshments soon had me mellowed out.

Not to mention the presence of a very well endowed, voluptuous young lady who insisted on keeping me company and well imbibed all night long.

The entertainment was all above board, and my future brothers-in-law and I proceeded to get smashed. My dad had a great time and flirted shamelessly with a young lady who kept grinding her backside into him.

Even my very correct future father-in-law was getting an eyeful (and a face full) of female body parts. Grandpa said we should get something like this back in Houston.

We closed the club, and Ami's father thanked the proprietor for an excellent evening. As we poured ourselves into the Mercedes limos, two of my future brothers-in-law tossed their cookies. Their father shook his head and said he would have to start getting them out more often.

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The ladies' party was more interesting. The soon-to-be bride was, naturally, the center of attention. The wine was flowing freely, as Ami recounted the story of her rescue and subsequent romancing.

"And he was so cute in the way he talked to me. When he cracked his joke before he passed out, I was shocked. Then I realized he was quoting cartoons, and he was an American. I almost died with laughter."

She looked at my mother, grandmother, and my sister.

"When he regained consciousness, he was so cute and endearing that I was immediately taken by him. I was, how do you Americans say, 'hooked.' " She raised her wineglass to her lips, and a mischievous look crossed her face.

"When we started to date, he even taught me how to play 'Baseball'." She fluttered her eyelids and sipped her wine.

Celeste paused with her wine halfway to her mouth and stared at Ami.

"He taught you how to play 'Baseball'??"

Ami took a sip of wine and drew out the reply.

"Yes", she said, finally, looking around. "He has even gotten to 2nd base several times and said he would really like to hit a 'Home run' with me."

Donald's grandmother roared with laughter, his sister spit the better part of her glass of wine across the patio, and his mother's mouth dropped open and hung there. The rest of the young ladies disintegrated into laughter. They were obviously in on the comment, and Ami's mother blushed and giggled.

She was close to her tolerance for alcohol.

Her grandmothers stared at everyone else, obviously clueless.

Ami quickly recouped the conversation and told everyone that Donald was a perfect gentleman and the making out was done in the heat of passion.

"I am extremely lucky to have found him," she said, looking at Donald's mother, sister, and grandmother.

"I love him with all my soul and will dedicate my life to making him happy." She grinned. "One of the ways is to give him as many children as he wants......." she said, "and can tolerate." She winked at his mother and grandmother.

She knew about Celeste's problems with conceiving and had had a heart to heart with her, telling her in no uncertain terms that Celeste would always be first in her children's minds as their favorite aunt.

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Our wedding went off without a hitch, and the reception was held in the Sheraton Addis, a 5-star hotel. The party was a social who's who of diplomats, politicians, military personnel, and all-around rich folks. Compliments of her family.

For years afterwards, when I didn't remember or recognize someone, Ami would bat her eyelashes at me and tell me, "Oh, you remember them, my love. They were at the wedding."

I think the guest list numbered about 5000 souls, according to my wife.

We honeymooned in Greece, courtesy of my parents. (I think my mother is coming around.) We took a river cruise up to Alexandria, Egypt. Then an airline flight to Athens and a short hop to the Cyclades Islands.

We played a lot of 'baseball' with me batting over 1.000. I think I broke Mark McGuire's record for home runs. Including at least 10 grand slams.

(A gentleman does not kiss and tell.)

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We returned to Ethiopia and resumed our lives. We lived 'off-base', as it was, in Ami's condo. We were happy beyond words. And true to our word, Ami became pregnant with our first child and delivered our daughter, Ami Fatima Samantha, ten months after our wedding. She was named after our mothers. She was beautiful.

She took after her mother and grew in beauty and grace. Her grandparents were over the moon.

Two years later, her brother was born. Donald Afework Aaron Forsane was the spitting image of his father.

Just shorter.

As I held him in my arms in the delivery room, I envisaged all the things a dad does for his firstborn son. College, military service, maybe an NFL career, a beautiful wife, and children.

My wife snapped me back to reality.

"Isn't he beautiful? He will make a great doctor, or maybe a college professor." She smirked at me.

"Or maybe a 'baseball' player, like his father," she grinned.

The woman was evil.........I loved it.

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My little family grew and flourished. Five years passed. Our children seemed to have a knack for soccer. DAM IT!!!

(OOH, well.)

Well, I managed to get some television programs from the states, sitcoms and NFL games, cop shows, and news broadcasts.

We grew as a family and their mother continued to worry about me going out on ops.

We were concentrating on a new threat, a group called Al-Qaida. We went on several ops, chasing a group led by a guy named Osama bin Laden. He was a Saudi national who had declared 'holy war' against the United States and its allies. As far as I knew, I had not done anything to the guy, but I looked forward to doing plenty to him if I got the chance. There was also an organization called "Isis."

His organization had put a bounty on all Americans in the horn of Africa and the surrounding areas. The station chief for the CIA told me that intel said they also were looking at any dependents.

Seeing as how this was not Texas, and Ami was scared of guns anyway, I talked to her father about getting a couple of guys to babysit her.

He hooked us up with two locals. They would go with Ami back and forth to work.

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Intelligence pinpointed a gathering of bad guys in the mountains to the west of the city. We deployed in choppers, and the Marines convoyed out in hum-vees and Bradleys.

We learned that they were tracking the convoy and had no clue what the Green Berets were up to.

The Marines arrived at the foot of the bad guy's stronghold and immediately set up mortars. They started to shell the enemy positions and flank their encampment. They left the 'backdoor', as it was, open.

The insurgents traded shots with the Marines and newly arrived Ethiopian airborne troops. The insurgents were holding their own, and slowly withdrawing back into the foothills behind them.

We came in on their back door. It's called a 'kill zone' for a reason. We set up a line to back-stop the insurgent's withdrawal and along the right flank of the enemy's movement to catch them in a crossfire. We waited.

The Marines and Ethiopians drove them into the pocket and then we opened fire on them. It wasn't pretty because war is not pretty, and they didn't know we were there.

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It lasted about 7 minutes, and the enemy had had enough. Of the approximately two hundred and fifty fighters they started with thirty-two surrendered. We moved in and took the remaining group prisoner.